


she's no dove, never was

by made_of_lions_and_wolves333



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alpha Sansa Stark, Gen, Queen Sansa
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-18
Updated: 2018-09-18
Packaged: 2019-07-13 20:17:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16025243
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/made_of_lions_and_wolves333/pseuds/made_of_lions_and_wolves333
Summary: First, Sansa was just a fair maiden. Second, the Lady of Winterfell. And thirdly, became the wolf.Or: "... from porcelain, to ivory, to steel."





	she's no dove, never was

Sansa was born a maiden first, innocent and fair. So fragile and dainty, like porcelain. She could sing as beautifully as any tamed bird and she learned how to sew her tattered dresses back together again to look as good as new.

She was so pretty and humble, highly resembling the lady-mother who once came before her. All graceful limbs, radiant red hair, and a beaming smile full of summer and joy. As a maiden, Sansa did not show everyone how witty she truly was.

 

 

Second, Sansa was Winterfell’s ever-watchful motherly figure. She was still poised and polite mostly, though far less naïve as her first self was. She had just enough scars on her back to prove that she had suffered the wrath of the Lion Queen — suffered at the hands of false knights — cruelly exposed to the darkness consuming the outer world.

Yet, she was growing. Growing harder and stubborn, like ivory; and she gladly ruled the North beside her siblings. Sansa found her footing amongst the manly ranks, willingly engaged in their castle politics. She did her utmost best to raise and foster their people out from the ruins. She was no longer a student, but a teacher then; a more experienced guide for those who were ill or saddened or much younger and greener than she.

 

 

 

Third, Sansa remembered who she was meant to be, truly. She became the wolf living in a world of sheep, became much more difficult to outsmart, to kill. Her eyes turned to ice and steel in her womanly years and it was more than a good scare for strangers to behold. Her presence became an omen of justice and a harsh Winter on the rise. Her once-sweet songs gradually built to a battle cry; a sure howl inside her lungs for all their trespassers and foes to hear. She lusted to paint the white snows red.

She stalked through the darkened trees without fear and wouldn’t strike until she knew her prey could not run or lie anymore. When her targets were cornered, she’d have her brothers and sister close in from each side right on cue, and the pack would feast on their victory.

 

Sansa was no dove, never was. Doves don’t have such sharp teeth.


End file.
